BIG SISTER

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While in Utah, we met up with my baby sisters, who were visiting from Arizona. This is Aria...one of the twins.
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This is Belle. They are identical except for one thing...
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...Belle doesn't have any hair. Apparently, the girls found a pair of scissors and decided to give her a new do.

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But on the bright side, I have no problems telling them apart anymore.

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They are in their little pioneer dresses because we were at Pioneer Village at the This Is The Place Monument.

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I also saw my sister Aurora. She is six going on sixteen, and quite the little entrepreneur.

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I ended up paying a dollar for this original piece of artwork. It is of a Sunday school teacher saying "Jesus is Our God" while her students either play with "betend" guns or pretend to be dead. And God himself looks on from his throne in heaven. Pretty deep for a six-year-old.

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Mostly, I just want to know what Sunday school class she's been attending.

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It also looks like she's been busy sprouting into a pole bean these last couple months. I can't get over those lanky limbs!
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They were all at Pioneer Village to support my dad in artwork selling efforts of his own.

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He's actually pretty good. You can see more of his artwork HERE.
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Anyway, that's all for me.

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Coolest Big Sister Ever,

Rachel

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TO ALL MY REXBURGER READERS:

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Now is not a good time to take your boat out onto the Snake River. It may be at other times of the year, a wide raging torrent of adventure...

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But it is currently, a shallow trickle. And your husband may have to pull the boat by hand...upstream... for at least a mile...to get back to the dock.
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Just so you know.

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ATTACK OF THE KILLER ROOSTER

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Andrew and I traveled down to small-town Utah to visit Erin (Andrew's sis), meet her fiance, and photograph them some engagement pictures.
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Our first morning there, I woke at dawn to the sounds of cows and roosters, and went outside to explore.

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The rising sun made for beautiful lighting to take pictures.

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And it was a perfect, peaceful morning.
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As I was concentrating on taking this rustic shot...

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...I spotted a rooster, casually pecking the ground nearby.

Oh, what a cute, little rooster! I crooned.

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How embarrassingly naive, I was.

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The next time I took my eye from the view finder, the rooster was puttering around right at my feet.

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Hi, wittle guy! I cried.

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It was at about this time, however, before I had any time to defend myself, that the rooster unexpectedly--and unjustifiably--attacked me. He ran at full speed ahead, wings outstretched, and with fire in his eyes.

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I am ashamed to say that I, Rachel Ashmore, ran for my life...from a rooster. I mean, what if he had...pecked me? It wasn't until I had clambered into the bed of a truck for safety, that he crowed in triumph and wandered away. And I'm even more ashamed to say that this series of events happened a second time when I thought he had gone.

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Back in the house, after the humiliating story was shared, I was informed in all seriousness by 10-year-old Whitney:

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"The rooster's name is Buddy"

*long dramatic pause*

"...but he's no buddy."

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Next time I come to visit, I'm wearing my heavy stomping boots.

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Anyway, rooster hatred aside, awesome engagement pictures coming soon! Plus...wait til you see the cute kids attached to this marriage deal. (I'm going to be an auntie again!)

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EVERY DAY

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I'm getting up with the sun.

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(When I feel like it, of course)

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The bed is getting made.

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Yummy, healthy breakfasts are being prepared...

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...And getting eaten peacefully outside on the red picnic table.

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(As opposed to in a few frantic bites in the 30 seconds before students arrive)

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Scripture study is happening before I leave the house in the morning.

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(Instead of in the 30 seconds before falling asleep at the end of the day)

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Plants are getting watered.

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The garden is growing.

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The floor is getting swept.

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Books are getting read--just for fun.

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(Rather than gathering dust on the nightstand for years at a time)

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Laundry is getting done.

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(Rather than being ignored)

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Now remind me:

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WHY am I going back to work full-time??

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I seem to remember loving my job at one time. I just can't seem to remember the reasons at the moment. Hopefully, it all comes back to me soon.

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VAMPIRES

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My grandma is the funniest, feistiest grandma ever. (Lane, remember when she kept referring to you as Junior? Ha!) Recently, she wrote this in our family newsletter:

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"You won't believe what I did. My sister has read all these Twilight Books so she wanted to see the movie. I haven't read them nor will I ever read them. But I went with both of my sisters and some of their children and grandchildren to see the last movie. I do not understand why anyone in their right mind would want to marry a vampire or a wolf!!! Nothing made much sense to me. Well, anyway, don't waste your money on it."

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When I drove by the sign (above) outside a local restaurant, it reminded me of her. I post this at the risk of offending 90% of my readers, but here goes: I'm right there with ya on this one, Grandma. I have not read--nor ever plan to read--the Twilight series. Vampires are just plain freaky.

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And here is the back side of that local sign. =)

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I always look forward to driving past this on my way to Wal-Mart and reading whatever new crazy stuff Craigo's has come up with.

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And just to clear the air, this is in no way meant to be a dig at my in-laws. It's just a funny sign. Besides, vampires freak me out WAY more than they do.

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(hehe...love ya, Rhonda!)

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DR. COUCH'S LAUGHING GAS

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I've had the same nightmare for about three nights now. It is really, really awful! I wake up in a panic, my heart racing, my hands clutching at the pillow...I don't even think I can talk about it.
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Okay fine. You've convinced me.
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It always opens, as I come upon a magnificent view. Like a sunset or summery landscape. It's the most picturesque scene my eyes have ever beheld, and I stop, catch my breath, and exclaim to those around me to come and see. Nothing has or ever will compare to it's beauty.
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Then, I excitedly reach for my camera, aim, compose, and shoot...except...something is terribly wrong! My camera isn't working!! I frantically mess with buttons and dials between desperate glaces at the quickly fading scene before me. And then...it is too late. It is gone. And I've missed my chance forever, to capture what could have been a life-changing photograph.
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I told you it was awful.
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On the bright side, I treated myself to new shoes yesterday.

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I know I just got rid of half my shoes, but in order to justify buying these, I had to get rid of yet another pair from my closet. And I've been pining after red flats for a LONG time.

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This morning, as I was getting dressed for church, the red shoes were the first things I put on. As in, I had to remove my pajama pants from over them...which wasn't easy. And I've been home from church for 5 hours now, and...oh look...these babies are still on my feet.

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I love them.

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So, I'm guessing that summer in Rexburg is in full swing...judging from the line at the local SnoShack the other day.

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I'm thinkin' that my red flats and I should take a walk for a snow cone sometime. Andrew can come too if he wants.

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Our Friday night dates tend to be a source of contention. We usually don't have something specific planned, and neither of us want to be the one to come up with the night's activity.
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But this time, I manned up (yeah that's right), and did the planning. We had a comedy night.

• Madlibs
• Laffy Taffys
• A comedy off of Netflix (Planet 51)

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The whole evening cost us two bucks, and it was actually really, really fun.
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But I am not, I repeat, NOT planning next week's date (Andrew, are you reading this?). It's HIS turn. (I love you, babe!)
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My dentist's name is Dr. Couch. I imagined getting my teeth worked on while laying nestled in a soft, fluffy, microfiber couch. The experience was not as pleasant, as I had envisioned. Maybe I should sue for false advertising.

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After the all-day appointment, my jaw was so stiff and sore...I couldn't fit a spoon of Frosted Mini Wheats into my mouth for a week. I was sedated and on laughing gas, so I really don't remember much of the horrible ordeal. But I do remember two things:

1.) I woke up once to the the dentist's assistance wiping tears from both of my cheeks. Apparently, I had been crying. Slightly embarrassing.

2.) I woke up soon after we had begun, giggling like a goon (laughing gas, remember). I needed to tell the the dentist something, but the thought of saying it out loud sounded so silly to my brain, that it took a few moments of delirious chortling before I could even get it out.

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"Ummm...Dr.? I...have...to...PEEEEEE!!!"

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I was a little out of it, but I'm pretty sure this was followed by another fit of hysterics.

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I'm also pretty sure that Dr. Couch sighed heavily before un-clipping my dental bib. And that the assistants had to practically carry me to the bathroom where I very indignantly chastised them for thinking I needed any help whatsoever in the stall.

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After I got home, and the medicines began to wear off, and I started to review in my mind the day's events...my cruel memory began to piece together that my oh-so-hilarious peeing episode may not, in actuality, have been an amusing dream. My reserved, appropriate self, would never announce such a personal need to perfect strangers. Right??

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At this point, I'm maintaining that it was another nightmare.

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But it wouldn't hurt to avoid Dr. Couch's office for a little while either. Just in case.

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TIME OUT

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Today, I put an inanimate object in the time-out chair. The object was being disruptive, causing contention, and I had had enough. .
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I was attempting to get breakfast served to five squirmy toddlers, while my two-year-old's bowl was repeatedly traveling from his head, to his brother's head, zooming through the air, and clattering to the floor. "Keep your bowl on the table, Cole," I tried. He glanced at me off-handedly without the slightest change in behavior.
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I was losing my patience. The struggle it took to get everyone sitting at the table with their hand's washed in the first place, was enough to make me balk at the idea of removing him for a time-out. Plus, we were on a tight schedule. Mostly out of desperation, I took the bowl and said with sympathy:
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"Oh man! It looks like your bowl needs to practice holding still at the table! He (the bowl) is not being very nice, so I am going to put him right here in time-out for one minute."
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The other children giggled at the sight of the bowl on the chair in the corner, but Cole sure didn't. After his initial shock, he folded his chubby arms and glared at me--his pouty lip on at full force.
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But I was able to use that minute to get everyone else's bowls filled and ready to eat. And when I returned and filled Cole's own naughty bowl, it remained flat on the table...just like a good little bowl should.
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I felt slightly foolish. But the lesson was taught, I didn't cause tears or tantrums, and nobody got smacked around...phew!
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Now it's got me thinking...what other inanimate objects can I put in the time-out chair? Bills? Laundry? My new house plant that has slowly started to wither despite my tender care?

If only...

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